


Mental | BTS

by SpeakToTheDevil



Category: ATEEZ (Band), EXO (Band), GOT7, NCT (Band), SHINee, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Torture, Aged-Down Jeon Jungkook, Aged-Down Kim Taehyung | V, Aged-Down Park Jimin (BTS), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Murder, Child Neglect, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Past, Detectives, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gangs, Gay Sex, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder Mystery, Parent/Child Incest, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Police Brutality, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Underage Drug Use, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeakToTheDevil/pseuds/SpeakToTheDevil
Summary: When retired detective Min Yoongi gets a call from the crime department at 5am in the morning saying they need him to put his jacket on one last time, he finds himself being dragged back into the very same world he thought he escaped. With nothing more than an old flashlight and a small briefcase, Yoongi decides to step up one last time to try to take down three, young serial killers who have been terrorizing Daegu for the past three years.But soon, he’ll find out this case is more gruesome than he thought it was.With a retired detective, one cocky journalist, two ammatuer police officers and three killers running loose, the case turns dark as Yoongi finds out some interesting information.What if the killers aren’t the one to blame?





	1. Zero Sense

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER (please read before continuing on! It is mandatory that you should read!)  
― This story contains heavy adult themes, mental health issues, graphic violence and death. This may be triggering and traumatizing to some readers so PLEASE proceed with caution or click off the book if you don't feel comfortable.  
It is YOUR responsibility to click off this story if it makes you uncomfortable, this content is dark. So please, heed the warnings of this book if you decide to continue. It is your choice, make sure to make sure you're comfortable!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ― One boy encounters Death in the infamous Yong-sun Alleyway

"_Jisung!_ _Head over this way with me―_"

The clear holler of his name makes him swiftly turn around on the dark path that was dimly lit with nothing more than two street lights. The soft sound of his wheels skidding against the gravel ground is the only thing he can hear as he pedals after his older friend.

"_ I'm behind you! _"

He answers them as he catches up so that he is pedalling right beside him. His bike was smaller than his bike as he was still quite short and had yet to grow. His eyes wander around the dark town that was quiet and _ very _ lifeless.

"_ Let's go to the Yong-sun Alleyway. It's a shortcut! _"

His friend's suggestion sends an unwanted shiver down his spine. His lips part slightly as his heartbeat suddenly gets faster and faster. His breath came out short and icy cold, it was like all the warmth has been drained from his body.

"_ B―But, it's dangerou― _"

"_ Come on, Jisung! We'll be safe, I promise you. _"

His small plea gets cut off and ignored immediately by his older friend who seems extremely excited about going down the dreaded alleyway at two in the morning. The supposed alleyway that has been a murder scene for the past three years. 

He gulped down his fear and forces his legs to pedal again as they turn around the corner of a run down bank that was at the edge of town. His legs scream at him to stop pedalling, and he almost listens to them, before he continues.

As they venture closer and closer to the alleyway, he feels as if there's eyes watching him. His mouth feels dry and he finds himself constantly swallowing his own saliva to make it moist again. His cold fingers tighten around the brake handle as he prepares to suddenly stop in case anything happens. 

_ 'We're okay. We're okay. We're oka―' _

They slow down as the dark alleyway comes into view. It had terrible amounts of rubbish down it and was incredibly long and narrow. He can hear the drips of sewage water land on the icy ground that most likely came from the apartment complex beside it. 

It wasn't a dirty alleyway, Yong-sun Alleyway holds dark secrets ― _ unknown enemies _. 

So, for him to be cycling towards it was making his heart clench and twist in his chest. He didn't want to do it, but his friend was there. He was secure ― _ safe _. They were just stories that the old residents told to scare the kids. 

_ 'But why do they feel real?' _

He lets his friend go first, his bicycle creaking as he presses down on the brake handle to slow down as he precariously follows his friend down the dark alleyway.

It's so narrow that their bike handles scrape roughly against the broken pieces of wall. The leather cushion making a horrible sound to his ears as he presses his knees against the frame of his bicycle, feeling as if someone was going to grab him at any second.

"_ Can we go back? _"

"_ No! We'll be out in a few minutes. There's nothing down here, the stories our folks told you are really getting to your head. You listen to them too much. _ " 

"_ W―What? No I don't! I just don't feel good about this place, you know the crime stories that happened here _."

"_ They happened over thirty years ago! There's no more killers in Buk-Gu, we're just a run down town now. You need to stop stressing. _"

His eyes water as his nose catches the scent of something horrible ― _ rancid _ even. The bitter smell of copper and rotting flesh is unknown to his nose at the time, yet he knows that's not a good sign. His mind is screaming at him to turn around and go home.

"_ Hey, do you smell that? _"

"_ It's probably rats. This is an old alleyway after all. _"

His suspicions heighten. _ 'It's more than an old alleyway' _he tightens his small hands around the handles as he becomes more and more paranoid. 

A small sound, barely audibly to anyone, anyone but him, sets him off. His throat tightens as a lump of fear is stuck as the air becomes ten times colder than it is. He freezes up and stops pedalling after his friend, slowly watching as he gets further and further away.

He doesn't bother uttering his friend's name, he knows ― _ he knows someone else is there. _

He can sense it. He heard footsteps, he can hear the small puffs of breath. He can smell the iron smell _ ― blood. _The fourteen year old waits, waits for some sign of movement. 

"_ Who are you? _"

His voice is a weak whisper, he is afraid that he'll trigger something by talking too loud. His nose scrunches up as he tries to ignore the stench of blood get stronger, until he physically sees the blood.

A boy stands in front of him, maybe three years older than him. His beautiful ash, grey hair is styled to perfection and hangs in his dark eyes that he can not see. Plump lips outline his mouth and it is clear to see that he smiling, an eerie smile. A simple black hoodie and jeans is what he wears, with the coat of someone else's blood.

The boy looks up, and he sees something genuinely scary ― he wants to see scream and run away, but he can't. It was like this older boy has enhanced him.

His dark eyes hold the emotions of someone who's lost the will to live, and from his temple to his smooth, chubby cheeks, trails a river of fresh blood. But it was not his, it was someone else's. 

Yet, strange enough ― _ he feels safe being with him. _

The boy doesn't threaten him and make him scared like he feels like he should be. Instead, he feels safe, secure ― may he dare say appreciated? His heart slowed down to a melodic lull as he keeps his gaze on the seemingly mythical boy who is walking towards him.

The boy is standing in front of him, allowing him to see the stained face and neck with someone else's blood. The crimson colour decorated his skin like paint on a canvas ― _ it was absolutely beautiful. _It was a work of art. 

_ He was a work of art― _

The boy brings his hands up from his side, allowing a small gasp time leave his small lips as he awed at the beautiful liquid coating his hands. _ 'Absolutely stunning' _the fourteen year old looks up to see the boys smirk disappear into a small smile.

The older boy offers his bloody hand to him, his eyes showing nothing but brokenness ― _ as if he was alone in this world. _

He tentatively puts his much smaller hand in his hand, and immediately warmth rushes into his body as he feels the liquid run between their fingers and coat his one. It feels nice ― the boy feels nice, he's warm. He's never felt so secure in his life.

He looks at him with innocent eyes, the grey haired beauty staring back at him. Before opening him plump lips and allowing a melodic but pained voice break the icy silence.

"_ I am the wasted youth, kid. Humans betrayed me and shunned me. It's such a relief to see some innocent children still here in this corrupt system. _"

His words are like a nursery rhyme to him, his head slightly tilted to his side as he listens carefully. Analysing every word that escaped his shattered soul that's been locked away for too long.

"_ Don't let people shun you out, kid. I hope you stay happy and people don't take your innocence away, like they did to me. Maybe there is some hope for the youth. _"

His voice becomes louder and louder as he speaks every word to him.

"_ You must leave now. Your friend is now long gone. Go home and sleep well. I will meet you later when you're grown up, and hopefully you will be thriving. _"

He stands up straight and slowly backs up, the warmth leaving the young boy who looks on desperately as the grey haired beauty pulls his hood up and a shimmer of a blade appears.

His bottom lip trembles as he feels incredibly sad and angry leaving him in the dark alleyway, he tries talking but no words leave him at all.

"_ Till we meet next time, Jisung. _" The grey haired artwork mutters as he waves his final goodbyes.

"_ Goodbye― _"

He pauses, unsure of the boy's name.

"_ Jimin, Park Jimin. _"

With that, the grey haired boy turns around and walks into the  
Yong-sun Alleyway. He forces himself to back out of it and cycle home as fast as he can. Unaware of his friend's screams for him ― _ for help _. His mind was clouded with that boy. 

The boy that was soon to be a monster to the public, but the broken child of others.

**11:09 AM** ― ** _23RD OF FEBRUARY_ ** ― **JISUNG'S HOUSE : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

"_ Today the body of fifteen year old Kim Sehyoon was found at the entrance of Yong-sun__ Alleyway with his bike broke into pieces beside him. It appears the young boy suffered multiple, gruesome stabbings and died a slow death. It seems he went for a late night cycle. A killer has finally risen after thirty years and I advise all lot residents to stay safe and lock u _―"

His mother quickly switches off the television as she peaks a glance at her son who's staring blankly at the static television screen. His eyes show no motion as he remains perfectly calm ― _ as if he wasn’t affected by his best friend’s death _. His breathing is even as his eyes find his mother’s, who looks broken at the thought of the second boy she cared for as her own son. 

“_ Sehyoon _,”

The small matter of his name didn’t make him flinch or make his heart beat faster. It was as if he felt secure and okay with his death, just like he was with that boy last night ― _ Jimin _ . He knew he did it, he knew. But, he frankly didn’t care. He had _ no sympathy _ , _ no guilt _ , _ no sadness _stored for his deceased friend.

“_ Jisung ― I’m so sorry _.”

“_ Don’t be _,”

His quick reply with a sturdy voice made his mother frown in confusion and shock. Did her little boy not feel any sadness? Was he in shock? Her hands gently resting on top of her son’s as she looks into his eyes, searching for something. She waits for his reply and hopes he was in shock and that was the explanation to his bluntness about his friend’s death.

“_ It was for the better _.”

Her eyes widen as she sees him smile so genuine at her. So happy. She knows her little boy has been influenced, he saw something.

All she can do is watch as he retreats to his room, knowing the monster has captured her little boy in the hands of Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the late 1990s / early 2000s incase any of you get confused. I’m really excited to write this but please be reminded this is not a happy go lucky story. This deals with crime and gang mobs in the illegal world, of course this isn’t going to be a happy fairytale book


	2. Min Yoongi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — Min Yoongi finds comfort in the young bartender with a troubling life, and decides that he is a perfect candidate to spill his life to

**17:48 PM ─ _15TH_ _OF_ _JANUARY_ ─ LOCAL BAR : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

Min Yoongi merely flinches at the loud, _ piercing _ sound of glass shattering beside him.

His clouded eyes trail over to a drunken bastard who is roaring at the bartender for more drink ─ _specifically_ _vodka_. The heavily influenced man was swaying in his seat as he waved for more alcohol, broken shards of clear glass were lying on the ground and some had pierced his rough skin that he was visibly bleeding on his arm. But, he didn’t notice — seeing as all he cared about was getting another drink in his system so he could wallow out the pain and suffering he contains in himself.

Yoongi could see the visible disgust in the bartender's face as he ordered the man to leave. The man slurs out more curses before managing to take his drunken and bleeding state out of the bar, his figure disappearing out of the dark door never to be seen again till tomorrow night at exactly eleven on the dot. 

Yoongi exhales softly when he hears the security guard bark orders at the drunken man to leave. His breath was cold against his pale skin — it left a horrible shiver that he only got when things went downhill. His breath wasn’t warm, it was ice cold. Like a Winter’s morning wind, the wind that blows through you and seeps into your clothes and somehow makes you freeze all over again. The wind that whips through your hair and makes your ears red with absolute force. 

That’s what Yoongi felt whenever his breath touched his skin. _Ice_ _cold_.

“One day, that man will drink himself to death. And I will _ not _ feel bad.” Kim Kihyun, the bartender mutters bitterly as he swipes the stained glass shards into the bin he was holding up on the table. His white cloth gleamed with specks or glass shards that had engraved itself in the small knitting of it. 

Yoongi exhales again when he makes a connection to what else that reminded him of. 

Instead, he only offers a hum and taps his own glass in thought. His small fingers making a small print on the glass that had fogged over with his breath. 

“That day will come very soon. His body can’t take the amount of alcohol he consumes every night.” Yoongi answers plainly and as vaguely as possible.

Min Yoongi doesn’t like to converse with people, so his mind went completely blank when he realised he had indirectly replied to Kihyun’s small rant that shouldn’t have gotten a reply.

Kihyun looks up at Yoongi with his slender eyes. His hands dabbing at the smaller pieces of glass with a cloth so he could pick them up. “This _may_ sound crude, and I mean, a small bit crude. But _thank_ _god_. I can’t put up with him anymore. Always coming in here screaming for another glass when he’s had enough already. Started a fight with Minhyuk last week and the police were nearly called. He’s a low life that wallows in alcohol and it’s personally disgusting to me.” Kihyun spits out with annoyance, not anger, pure irritation.

Yoongi knows the difference between anger and irritation, he’s seen all examples of it. He knew Kihyun wasn’t angry at the man, simply — _irritated_. Irritated that the man came to this bar all the time and not the other one across the street that was _much_ _more_ popular. Irritated he always had to clean up the mess. Irritated that the man caused so many _small_ problems that pin pricked his patience. 

That was all, _mild_ _irritation_.

Yoongi tips his head down, a sign of disagreement. He just calmly sits up so he looks more proper and not slouching like he usually does and finds himself looking straight at the wall that was painted a beautiful dark brown. 

“It is _ very _ crude, Kihyun. People have reasoning behind their actions. Every action has a reason. Everything is done with a purpose.” 

Yoongi simply says while clutching his glass and bringing it up to his lips. His eyes closing as the harsh liquid flows down his throat and leaves a slight burn afterwards.

Kihyun raises a pierced eyebrow at Yoongi’s questionable reply. A small but curious flicker sparks in his deep eyes as he takes note of the reply. “Do explain to me, Min. I’d like to hear more about that questionable _ motto _ you have.” He leans over the table, arms in front of him as he props himself over the mugs that were dangling precariously on small metal hooks.

Yoongi feels his heart warm at such innocence. He knew Kihyun would never understand his motto without his story, but he wouldn’t tell his story. Yoongi’s story was something so private and confined to him that he felt no need to share it. It was a safe haven and a dark empire all in one. Everyone has stories, his is just a little morbid and twisted. Yoongi didn’t want Kihyun to know anyway, he wasn’t turning into those drunken slurs that rants their problems and stories away. Min Yoongi just wasn’t that.

Yoongi shakes his head before slipping off his seat onto the ground. He notices the way in which Kihyun noticeably becomes disappointed at his choice, but chooses not to comment on it. The boy didn’t need to know. _ No one needed to know _.

He places the exact money on the bar and stuffs his ice cold hands in his pockets. Yoongi never liked to personally hand over money, he didn’t like how his hands seemed so cold compared to everyone else’s. How his hands were rough from no care and littered cuts. He hated how everyone seemed taken aback by the sudden cold skin coming in contact with their warm and flourished hot skin. Yoongi hates seeing the confusion and disgust flash in their eyes before taking their hand back just as quickly and flashing him a fake smile. _ He loathes it _.

No one understood why Min Yoongi was so cold to touch, to look at, to talk to. And Min Yoongi never felt the need to tell anyone his story of what he became, for the people who already knew the story were gone somewhere else.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s getting late”

And just like that, he saunters out of the bar with the slouched walk he has been forced to use due to earlier experiences. Not acknowledging how Kihyun lets a massive sigh escape his moist lips or how his eyes linger on the seat that Yoongi was sitting on just a few seconds ago. A frown pulled at his face that had shown mere curiosity just a few seconds ago, but has currently debunked into disappointment that etched into his skin like a pure black tattoo.

“Just who are you, Min Yoongi.” Kihyun murmurs, before taking the cash and continuing on with his job.

✩✩✩

**19:48 PM ─ _19TH OF JANUARY_ ─ LOCAL BAR : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

Min Yoongi watches the empty glass shatter against the wall, not even flinching at the sound.

It was the same drunken bastard — the man came stumbling in and had demanded a glass of vodka from Kihyun who looked slightly annoyed at the loud disturbance. The young bartender refused, seeing as the man was already drunk and wasn’t going to make it out of the night alive he dared down another glass of poison. Without another word, said bastard picks up Yoongi’s empty glass without a second thought and flings it full force, at the wall where Kihyun was once standing.

Yoongi watches Kihyun pale greatly and starts hollering for security. His voice was pitched and raised which noticeably shows his fear of the man and what he could do to him. Yoongi stays calm and still and doesn’t react at all when the man barges past him to try to escape. _ He doesn’t do anything _. Yoongi would have done something if this was ten years ago, but it wasn’t ten years ago, Min Yoongi was thirty five now — he wasn't twenty five and battling against horrendous law orders to save a trio who changed his life for good. 

The security sprints in and hauls out the drunken nuisance — but as they did, he looks back and makes direct eye contact with Yoongi. And the latter swore he saw all the reasons for his alcoholic tendencies flash through his dull eyes. The bastard was the shell of a man he used to be — and Yoongi felt a sort of pity for him. He could see the reasons he drank his life away and it forces Yoongi to break the eye contact as his own heart squeezes in anguish at the painful past.

“Holy shit.” Kihyun breathes out, returning Yoongi back to the young bartender who looks ready to drop to the floor then and there. Yoongi isn’t that concerned for him if he was to be honest, however, the younger is going to experience worse things in life than a drunken man. This was simply one of the things life throws at you to make you question the path you’re taking. Yoongi has all the experience to say that confidently. “I thought my head was going to be split open if I hadn’t ducked in time.”

Yoongi bites his chapped lip and can’t help but let the small and uncharacteristic snort leave him. His small noise attracts the attention of Kihyun who looks blatantly shocked at the sound. But Yoongi can’t help himself and drops his head so the bartender can’t see the smile he tries to suppress. He couldn’t help it — the kid was too innocent and Yoongi could picture his reaction to a definite life or death situation and it was mildly amusing to the older. Only _ mildly _ amusing though. The kid’s head wouldn’t be split open, just a few cuts here and there. But it was amusing to see him panic about being hurt seriously when worse things could have happened to him.

“What?” Kihyun stammers. His hand consciously reaching up to fix his messy hair. “Why are you doing that?”

Yoongi finally looks up and Kihyun is surprised to see the amusement glinting in the usually dark eyes of Min Yoongi. This was the most emotion the younger man has ever seen from him, and he couldn’t help but burn the image into his eyes in case Min Yoongi switched his mood suddenly. There was just something about him that always attracted Kihyun to him, maybe it was his scars and scary demeanour, or maybe it was all the rumours that circled him like a swarm of bees. He’s heard all the adults say how dangerous he was. From being a _renowned_ _killer_ to a _secret_ _spy_ _agent_, Kihyun has heard it all. But never heard the rumours escape Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi didn’t look bothered by it, just kept to himself and never said a word to anyone. Just rolled on with life and never addressed the rumours personally.

Yoongi drums his fingers against the counter. A rhythmic sound that unknowingly soothes Kihyun a bit. “There are worse things out there in life, kid. If you think that was scary, wait till the real world comes for you. It isn’t nice at all.” 

His statement leaves Kihyun frowning and curious to know more. His parents always warned him to never talk or ask Min Yoongi questions, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. Kihyun was always told to cross the streets if he was walking on the same path as him, to exit the shop if he entered, to avoid him like he was a plague. Yet here he was, serving him cold beer and talking to him like a casual colleague. _ His parents would skin him alive if they saw what he was doing. _

“Has the real world got you?” Kihyun’s hesitant question makes Yoongi grin internally to himself. He likes the kid, he thinks he’ll make it and enjoys how curious and brave he is. 

“The real world got me when I was a young boy. If you grew up the way I did and saw what I saw, you’d understand why I don’t get involved with other people.” Yoongi plainly responds. Brushing a speck of dust off his leather jacket while shifting to the side so his ass isn’t as numb as it was currently.

Kihyun slowly begins to go back to polishing the shot glasses. His moves slow and steady and Yoongi could see the gears turning in the younger’s head. Oh he _ hopes _ Kihyun would grow up to be a gentleman and get a good job, not land up like Yoongi. But he could see the serious potential in the younger, and it makes him glad to see less people are becoming involved in the shit that he was involved with when he was Kihyun’s age.

“But, you are talking to me.” Kihyun is confused, even at his own statement. “You don’t talk in general, but you’re talking to me. I’m just a kid.”

Yoongi shakes his head at his conclusion. The steady hum of the bar was getting louder as more people flooded in as the night flowed on by. Yoongi became more aware of the door opening and closing as more people let themselves in. But they all strayed over to the main bar to drink the night away, no one ever stayed in the back bar where Yoongi usually was. _ No one stayed near Yoongi anyway. _

“A kid can be the least judgemental person you can meet. Plus, you’re nineteen, that’s rhetorically not a kid.” Yoongi loves the way Kihyun’s eyes sparkle in amazement at the new found information. _ Such an innocent heart _. “Give yourself more credit, you’re an adult now.”

“How did you know I was nineteen?”

“You look your age. Plus, that necklace you have on was probably a gift from a relative and you have a key on the chain. I’m guessing that’s your apartment key and you’re doing this job to earn money so you can keep your major up in college because you want to fulfill the wish of that relative who gifted you the necklace.” Yoongi breezes in one breath. Not even bothering to acknowledge the surprise written on Kihyun’s face.

Some may call Yoongi a stalker, but he isn’t. He’s very observant. His old job made him like that. Always on the lookout for clues to one’s backstory and emotions to different scenarios. It’s why he’s so good at reading people, whether he knows them or not. Yoongi can’t help but feel smug when he sees Kihyun gape at him with his wide eyes. _ Looks like I’ve still got it _. The glass almost slipped from his grasp if it wasn’t for his fast reflexes that helped him catch it before it fell.

“How did you—“ Kihyun doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Yoongi abruptly stands up. 

Yoongi doesn’t want the night to continue on anymore. He feels as if he’s revealed enough to Kihyun for now, he didn’t want the bartender knowing some more morbid details that he would probably have spilled if not for his conscious side telling him to leave before he fucks Kihyun’s mind up. _ Good idea, Yoongi. _

“That’s a secret kid. You’ll find out one day maybe.” Yoongi gently pats the money that he places on the counter before nodding at the star struck bartender and exiting the bar swiftly. As if he was never there to begin with.

Kihyun doesn’t feel creeped out, just amazed how the older could know that and feel so confident in his words. Yoongi was definitely a mystery that Kihyun wanted to crack. He wanted to find out his story and his reasons, he wanted to prove that Min Yoongi wasn’t who everyone thought he was. Because deep down, Kihyun knew Yoongi went through something horrible to become so closed off. He knew Min Yoongi was secretly a good guy that got judged by everyone in the past. _ But what did he do in the past to make everyone significantly hate him with a burning passion? _

“I’m going to figure you out, Min Yoongi. Just you wait.” Kihyun confidently said, before continuing on polishing the glasses so his boss doesn’t give out to him.

✩✩✩

**17:48 PM ─ _2ND OF FEBRUARY_ ─ LOCAL BAR : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

For the next two weeks, Yoongi found himself getting into a somewhat routine. 

Everyday, yes _ everyday _ , he’d visit the bar and indulge Kihyun with his twisted statements that left the younger curious and eager for more. The older found himself slowly opening up to the younger and _ actually _ conversing with him. Though it always ended abruptly when the younger asked a question that Yoongi could not answer without revealing something confidential, making him swiftly depart before anything else could be said. Only to come back the next day as if nothing happened the night before. _ Causality at its finest. _

So, it was a normal Thursday night and Yoongi was conversing with Kihyun again. The bartender was doing some orders for the finger food while complaining to the bored elder about how college sucks _ ‘ass’ _ and how he wasted money on pointless lectures that didn’t teach him anything. 

“Kid, you signed up for it.” Yoongi says while taking a sip of his beer. Grimacing when he took a big chug and it left a slight burn in his throat. 

Kihyun huffs as he rips off a sticky note and sticks it into the cashier book, his eyes narrowed in deep concentration.

“Technically I didn’t, my grandmother did. And I’m not dropping out.” Kihyun points out while waving his hand everywhere to help him get the point across.

Yoongi feels his heart beat painfully slow and ache when that small action reminds him of someone from the past. A small, nostalgic smile appears on his face but it’s gone all too soon when Kihyun looks up at him. The older quickly takes another sip of his beer to act casual and is relieved when the younger doesn’t suspect a thing out of him. Yoongi finds his guard slipping the more time he spends around the bright bartender and he curses himself for allowing him to grow soft for the boy who serves him beer every night. _ Man the fuck up Yoongi. _

“Well then, if you don’t plan on dropping out I’d advise you to be quiet and get on with college.” 

Yoongi swore he was the best at giving advice. _ No he’s not, he’s absolutely shit at it _. Another heartfelt ache when he remembers someone always giving out to him for his shit advice. 

“ _Hyung, you’re_ _so shit at advice it’s not even funny _“

Yoongi is snapped out of his memories when Kihyun whines loudly to himself and nearly faceplants the counter in pure frustration. Yoongi just eyes the younger with bored eyes as his long fingers wrap around his glass in a sense of security. He knows Kihyun is struggling in college, it’s easy to tell he doesn’t have the best finance in the world. But he admires his strength for pulling through for his grandmother’s sake, even though everything isn’t working out. _ He’s loyal, just like J _—

“Yoongi,” the thirty five year old raises an eyebrow at the bartender. “Did you go to college?” 

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to reply. “Daegu’s District Republic.” 

Yoongi knows Kihyun won’t tell anyone his personal details, but he still feels his stomach twist with nerves when he sees the flabbergasted expression on the younger’s face. In all honesty, who would suspect someone like Min Yoongi to have attended there. It was quite shocking and he wasn’t surprised one bit by Kihyun’s reaction.

“That was the best college!” Kihyun hisses at the older, as if Yoongi didn’t know. But he just nodded along and let the bartender rant away. “_Holy_ _shit_! You must have gotten good grades, your academic tracking must have been off the charts. What did you major in?”

Yoongi was stuck here.

If Yoongi ignored the personal question like always, he could go home and wallow in his depressing memories and leave the younger out of his life. But, he felt this urge to tell Kihyun his major. But Yoongi knew if he did, he’d have to tell the younger his whole story. And he doesn’t know if he wanted that to happen or not. But the more he thinks about it, the more the idea doesn’t seem bad. For the past twenty years — Yoongi has been wallowing in his past and letting it eat him up slowly. He hadn’t told anyone and he knows that’s the reason he feels worse and worse as time goes on. 

_ Maybe _ someone would listen to his story, just maybe he could tell someone what happened to him.

And if it meant telling the bartender who was a struggling college student his story to make the pain stop? _ So be it _. Yoongi was done letting himself drown in his demons — Yoongi was done hiding.

So he took a deep breath and answered the question that Kihyun did not expect to be answered.

“I was in the Crime department.”

Kihyun sucked a breath in as an endless amount of theories and questions flooded through his head. _ Yoongi involved with the crime department? Detective? Police? Forensic expert? _ Yoongi was definitely not someone Kihyun expected to be doing a crime department major. He wasn’t expecting the question to be answered, let alone that _ specific _ answer. Kihyun felt like he just hit the jackpot. And he was relieved to see that Yoongi didn’t seem to care about his reaction or what he just told him. The elder just swished his beer around in the nearly empty glass as he waited for the bartender to say something.

“Wow.” Kihyun runs a hand through his hair and drops his pen. “What did you do?”

“I was a detective.”

Kihyun must have woken up on his good side as he was getting all the information today. Min Yoongi — rumoured to be a killer, was actually a detective? If his grandmother was still alive she’d be eagerly writing this down in her notebook and planning on writing a story about it. Kihyun felt the rush of excitement flow through him as he realised he was the only one who knew this information. Himself, a struggling college student knew what Min Yoongi did for a living. _ Oh what a good day he’s having. _

Kihyun leans forward so his elbows are resting on the counter. Yoongi merely raises an eyebrow at him and fixes his ring on his slender index finger. “I haven’t gotten all night, kid. Spit it out.” It wasn’t harsh the way he said it, it was more like a command. Yoongi wasn’t annoyed at all.

“I have so many questions I want to know the answers too, but I know you won’t tell me.”

Yoongi just stares into Kihyun’s eyes and the bartender notices a spark flickering in the elder’s deep onyx eyes. He sees the pain Yoongi is sitting in and immediately sees the inner conflict he is having with himself. _ To tell or not to tell _. Kihyun bites his lip due to his nervous state and feels his ribs tighten around him as the air gets thick.

_ He’s definitely going to say no and disappear _—

“Next Wednesday.” Yoongi finally mutters. A mutter so low that Kihyun almost doesn’t catch it and leans forward so he can hear better.

“Pardon?”

“Next Wednesday you’ll get your answers. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” Yoongi breathes out. His hand tightens around the jar and it’s taking all of the man’s willpower to not start shaking in the middle of a bar in front of Kihyun. He was so _fucking_ _nervous_, so nervous that the younger will see how fucked up he is and look at him in disgust and leave him alone. Yoongi has always been terrified by the fact of someone judging him of his past, even if he was in the right for the things he did.

But he needed to move on from the past, and he was willing to try that.

Before Kihyun can even blink, Yoongi downs the rest of his beer and fishes out the money onto the clean counter. Yoongi elegantly pushes himself off the stool and strolls out of the bar, not even caring to look back to see if Kihyun agreed or not. Though, he knew the younger agreed and was already dreading this plan. _ I’m so going to fucking regret this. _

But Yoongi knew _ they’d _ be proud of him for trying to move on. And that’s why a small smile pulls at his chapped lips as he trudges his way back through the chilly and quiet streets of Daegu. 

“ _ Hyung, when you dwell too much on the past, it makes your mind unhealthy. I mean, look at us _“

“ _ We tried moving on but people aren’t letting us _ — _ can you blame us for lashing out? _“

“ _ No matter what they do _ — _ I’m proud of them. I’d take a bullet for them, they’re the only people I have left. Don’t rip me away from them _“

Yoongi shuts his eyes and exhales a shaky breath into the fresh air. The words sting and hit him like a ton of bricks. He promised he wouldn’t rip them apart and would protect them — but his protection wasn’t enough. _ Sadly _. 

“Let’s hope this shit goes well.” Yoongi sighs, ignoring the stares of people as he goes home without another word escaping him

✩✩✩

**23:38 PM ─ _9TH OF FEBRUARY_ ─ LOCAL BAR : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

Yoongi was dreading this day.

For the past week, he had been locked up in his room planning on how to tell Kihyun his past. It was so complicated and twisted that he didn’t know where to start. _ What does he say? Does he leave some stuff out? What if the kid thinks the rumours about him are actually true? _Yoongi has never been this panicked about something, yet here he was, scared shitless to tell a nineteen year old boy what the hell happened to him in his morbid past that he hated with every fibre of his body.

Yoongi took a deep breath and stepped into the bar with his usual blank face. Immediately the strong stench of alcohol and grease greet him when he steps in. The door swings closed behind him, leaving the cold air outside. Yoongi rubs his hands together in hopes of getting some warmth, though it’s quite pointless. His arms only become warm when he stands in front of a heater for a few minutes.

He spots Kihyun’s small frame in the corner of the bar. A small, forced smile on his face as he reluctantly hands another beer to the intoxicated group of teenagers. Yoongi frowns when he hears them spew vulgar slurs at him. Kihyun just turned around and walked into the back room, but Yoongi caught the sight of tears glossing over his eyes and it made his heart slightly break at the sight.

The poor kid doesn’t deserve it. Yoongi could tell he wasn’t that liked in school. He was always pissed when he came back from college to work, his eyes holding unshed tears and hidden pain that he masks away. The biggest giveaway to Yoongi though was if a group of teenagers, or any teenager stepped into the bar, Kihyun would tense and would do anything to not be the one to serve them. His body would go rigid and he would just freeze, an almost unnoticeable shiver running down his spine.

It didn’t take a fucking genius to know that Kihyun was being tormented at college.

Yoongi trudges over to his usual seat and sits himself down on the comfy barstool. He waits patiently for Kihyun to come back out, he knows the younger is fixing himself up to look presentable again. Yoongi takes the time to scan the bar thoroughly, his sharp eyes catching sight of a few things no one else would see at first glance. 

Yoongi notices a young woman staring at her glass of vodka in despair as her friends cheer all around her. Though she has a small smile on her face, he could tell she had never drank before and was nervous to take a sip as her friends encouraged her to take the shot. They were too intoxicated to notice the discomfort she held in her eyes — as she downed the glass in one go and almost started to hack when she brought the glass away from her lips.

Yoongi shakes his head at the young group of adults. Society had changed so much from when he was younger, it had become crueler, so much crueler. The older generation were forcing their dreams and ambitions down the throat of the youth forcefully, ignoring their screams for help, their cries for mercy and their begging voices that it’s too much to handle. All these factors resulting in more and more rebellions between families and children, people doing drugs and resorting to pain as a way out. It was sick how humans didn’t care anymore — no one cared.

No one cared about the youth anymore, and that’s exactly what Yoongi promised _ them _ wouldn’t happen.

_ Promises can’t be kept anymore unfortunately it seems. _

Yoongi snaps his gaze up from his ripped jeans to meet the red eyes of Kihyun who offers him a detached smile that he didn’t mean. The older narrows his eyes on the younger, silently asking him to drop the act that wasn’t working on him. The younger awkwardly coughs and swipes his thumb against the glass holding the alcohol Yoongi drinks. His eyes never daring to leave his feet in fear of looking at Yoongi’s judgement face.

Kihyun sniffs and places Yoongi’s regular order of beer on the counter. “Hey.” His voice cracks with unshed tears that he needs to release.

Yoongi scoffs at the pathetic greeting and takes his beer into his grip. “Kid, you can cry if you want. It’s better to let it out than keep it in.” 

Kihyun’s bottom lip trembles before fat tears start rolling down his sunken tears. This was his undoing. The younger trembles from where he stands — head hanging low as he quietly sobs into his hands. Yoongi stays silent during Kihyun’s breakdown, letting the kid cry out every emotion he needs to let out. He just silently watches him with concern, every few minutes he’d take a small sip of his beer. But his eyes never stray from Kihyun. His heart aches painfully slowly in his chest — reminding him that he actually does have feelings and isn’t that detached from the world.

Kihyun reminds him so much of _ him _ , and his eyes harden as his past yet again haunts him after the passing of _ them _. 

“Aw look, the faggot is crying!” The drunken slur of one of the male teenagers in the corner is enough to have Yoongi fuming in his seat.

His hands undoubtedly twitch around the glass, eyes turning a darker shade, almost obsidian when he notices Kihyun shake slightly at the insult. Yoongi inhales through his mouth, his brain hollering at him to smack the youngster upside down and beat him senseless for such a degrading comment, but he resists. Instead, Yoongi decides to talk to him _ verbally _. 

Kihyun snaps his head up when he feels Yoongi move from his seat. And he can’t help the loud gasp that leaves his dry lips when the older confidently strides over to the intoxicated group of teenagers with eyes of steel. His anger was coming out in large waves that crashed into the tide and ripped rocks out from the weed and flower’s tight grip, and the teenagers could feel it as they slowly sat up more straight to face the older man who couldn’t keep the sneer off his face as he approached them. 

Kihyun watches through his watery gaze how Yoongi leans down to the boy who shouted the insult a second ago. His lips mere inches away from the boy’s ear as he whispered something to him venomously. Kihyun guessed that from the way the boy’s eyes widened like huge saucers. He frantically nods and Kihyun spots the shiver of fear running through his muscular body as Yoongi backs up to return to his seat. 

Kihyun gapes at the older, eyes blurry slightly with the tears glistening. But Yoongi can see the underlying adoration shining in his brown irises, his face seemingly brighter at the thought and sight of Yoongi sticking up for him. The older man smoothly glides back into his seat and raises an eyebrow at the awestruck expression painted on Kihyun’s face like a blank canvas. Yoongi feels a sort of satisfaction fill up his heart and warm it, he was secretly proud that his threat seemed to have made the younger feel a bit more secure around him. 

“W-What,” Kihyun covers his mouth when a cough escapes him. His throat was like rough sandpaper from not releasing his broken sobs earlier on. “did you say to him?”

“My name.”

And just like that, Kihyun hits a dead end. 

The young bartender keeps forgetting that Yoongi is a rumoured killer, a secretive gang member and he was even called a rapist at one point. Though, he highly doubts that as that rumour was spread by some drunk bastard that thought Min Yoongi was a recently convicted rapist of their town one night. Needless to say, it caused quite a stir in the community and Yoongi had to deal with the name printed on newspapers everyday till it died down.

Kihyun didn’t even want to imagine what the older man had experienced in his thirty five years of life. 

But that’s exactly what he was going to find out. 

Kihyun nervously taps his small fingers on the smooth mahogany bar counter that he had polished three times before the arrival of Yoongi. He could see the small spots hidden beneath his fringe and slight makeup, that’s how clean the counter was. The till was also spotless, along with the glass windows and doorknobs of each door the bar had built in. Kihyun found himself doing unnecessary jobs to keep himself occupied throughout the entire day, his mind constantly going back to Yoongi who was about to tell him everything about himself.

_ Well, _ Kihyun pauses slightly. _ Hopefully everything. _

Yoongi clears his throat which snaps the younger out of his small daze. His eyes linger upwards to see Yoongi has a small glint of an emotion sparking in his eyes. The younger is utterly frustrated that he can’t decipher it, but he was determined to have Min Yoongi somewhat figured out after this whole confession was over. 

“Are you going to ask questions or should I go home?” Yoongi gently pushes his hair to the side so the tips of his black hair doesn’t fall into his dark eyes. His lips twitch when Kihyun stammers for an answer, but ultimately don’t move from the straight line they’re pressed in. “Come on, kid. I thought you were curious.”

“What’s your shoe size?” Kihyun manages to blurt out after a few seconds of internal panicking. His cheeks tint a rosy red that could easily represent a harsh red colour on an artist’s palette after his question and his hand instantly flies up to thump himself across the head.

Meanwhile Yoongi sends him a blank look, obviously not impressed with the question.

“Questions you want answered. Though I’m a size six if you’re really that curious.”

Kihyun wants to slam his head into a wall and fall into a coma. God, the mortification he was feeling was high off the charts and scales. His heart hammered in his chest and his brain was chanting “you’re an idiot” over and over again. When the younger if fifty seven, he is positively sure this is one of those memories that will keep him up till the ungodly hours of the morning as he questions why he said that.

He was such a fool.

“Sorry,” Kihyun mumbles. “I don’t know where to start. There’s so many rumours and theories about you and I want them all answered. But I really don’t know where to start and I’m scared I’ll offend you somehow!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes half heartedly at the kid’s innocence. He doesn’t get offended easily, so Kihyun has nothing to worry about. But he smiles gratefully, an action that goes unnoticed by the preoccupied bartender. Kihyun was one of the small bundles of youth he had faith in, faith in to bring justice to the corrupt society the world lives in today. Yoongi had failed, and he was hoping someone would step up and achieve what he couldn’t do. 

“Ask any, I'll tell you the whole story anyway. But I can start at a specific section if you like.” Yoongi encourages the younger in a soft tone. His lips part slightly as he allows himself to fill his body with the strong beer that glides down his throat naturally.

He really needs to stop drinking.

“Why are you called a killer when you are a detective? How did that happen?” Kihyun asks boldly, a newfound confidence surging through him like a needle injecting substances into people.

His light, brown eyes meet Yoongi’s cold, black eyes. Challenging him to answer the question he had dared to ask. Kihyun knew it was risky, but that was something that had spiked his interest for a while. _ How can a detective be called a killer so ruthlessly and passionately? _

Yoongi falters, but his facial expression shows nothing as he speaks. “As I mentioned before to you, I was a detective.”

Kihyun drags a bar stool out and sits down before him. He had a feeling it was going to be a long grilling story and he was prepared for the fucked up tale he was going to hear. “I have that bit, I’m curious. Detectives hunt killers, they’re not killers themselves. People perceive you as some _ monster _. It’s kind of absurd when you think about it, detectives shouldn’t be associated with killers yet you are.”

Yoongi gulps down the bile threatening to rise in his throat. The sick feeling of nerves and knots builds up in his stomach as his heart begins to plaster the cracked concrete up again. Stacking each brick high as it prepares to build its wall around itself again. Maybe he isn’t ready to spew out his past — especially not to a mere bartender who he has known for a few months. _Not_ _personally_ _even_. 

But Yoongi is ready, he just has to stop being an insensitive jerk about it.

_ They _ would want him to move on, so he will.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, slightly taken aback by the younger’s insights. But he doesn’t let it bother him for too long. “People call me a killer for a reason, I haven’t killed anyone. Well, not someone who did nothing wrong. But I have done something that makes me perceived as a killer, as someone with a sick mindset that craves for blood to decorate his hands. I’m not like that — but I’m close to it.”

Kihyun cocks his head at the eulogy, slightly baffled at the older man’s complex words and metaphors. “What do you mean?” Kihyun questions breathlessly — he feels like the answer is going to knock his lungs right out of his petite body. 

Yoongi looks at him with such a dark gaze, it reminds Kihyun of a sad child who got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner. Kihyun can see the lack of childhood and warmth the older has, he can fucking feel it off of his aura and it just makes his story that bit more depressing than it already is. It doesn’t help that Yoongi is staring right into his eyes with that cold look everyone is familiar with — the man was broken, and Kihyun knew no one could fix him.

“What did you do Yoongi?” 

Yoongi gulps and finally admits the words he didn’t dare utter for ten long, painful years. All these words — for a lonely bartender who he doesn’t even fucking know. _ What a great life, Yoongi. What a great fucking life. _

  
“I was a detective, a detective that decided to help three notorious serial killers escape the system and roam Daegu free.”

_ Wow_, that answer for sure knocked the wind out of Kihyun’s lungs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been gone for so long! School hit me like a truck and my phone broke for a while so I haven’t had anything. I hope you enjoy this chapter and excuse me for my lack of updates :))


	3. Wake up call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — Min Yoongi recalls the day he got a call that changed his life forever to Kihyun

**23:58 PM — ** ** _9TH OF FEBRUARY _ ** **— LOCAL BAR : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

Kihyun takes a large inhale of air and it causes him to start choking as it got caught at the back of the throat. His eyes brim with tears yet again and Yoongi looks at him in concern. His hand twitches from its place in his lap, undoubtedly wanting to place itself on the younger’s back to help him. But the older man decides against the idea and instead calmly waits for Kihyun to calm down.

“W-What?” Kihyun sputters out after a few minutes of excessive coughing.

Yoongi sighs and lets out a curse, his head tilting up to the ceiling for a brief second before lowering so he can make eye contact with the younger. 

“I said what I said. I helped three notorious serial killers roam Daegu.”

Kihyun feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.  _ So, that’s where the rumour came from _ . His lungs constricted and he begins to forcefully gasp each breath that manages to escape out into the humid bar.  _ He can’t be, he can’t be. Why the fuck would he do that?  _ Yoongi — Min Yoongi helped serial killers roam the streets he had  _ walked _ on. He was a detective, how could he have done that?

“I-I,” Kihyun shakes his head defiantly. “don’t understand. How?  _ How? _ ” 

Yoongi bites his thin bottom lip in mere irritation. He quickly scans the room to check if there’s anyone listening in. He doubts it — after all people come to the bar to get drunk and let loose. But he was not chancing it if someone decides to listen in on this very private conversation. Anyone could be lurking around and accidentally hear something they’re not supposed to hear. 

The last thing Yoongi needs is another rumour that is actually true spread about him. 

“Is there anywhere more private we could talk?” Yoongi asks Kihyun while scanning the area again for any nosy people listening in. “I don’t want people listening in on this. The last thing I need is for more rumours to follow me 

Kihyun nods immediately. “There’s the private bar in the back, you have to pay to use it but I’ll sneak you in. No one goes in there so we’ll be okay to talk.” 

Yoongi couldn’t help but relax a little bit by the bartender’s words. Paranoid wasn’t a strong enough word to describe him when it comes to talking about his past — no one could know, especially those of higher power and authority. Yoongi would be thrown in the death row where he’d rot for the rest of his life. He knew what it was like and it was fucking horrendous, caged animals lived there where they’d do anything to see the light outside their dark cells they were confined in. 

“Lead the way.”

Yoongi slowly slid off the bar stool leisurely, grabbing his pint of beer at the same time and following Kihyun behind the bar. His eyes drunk in copious amounts of shipped and foreign alcohol, he even spotted a French made barrel of pristine wine sitting in a glass case, hidden from the view of everyone else. Yoongi roughly estimated how much someone would earn from selling the drink in the bar and estimated it to around three million won. It was a miracle no mobster had stolen the drink yet,  _ yet _ .

They both halted outside a varnished dark wood door with the word ‘Private’ engrained in it. The dark, natural bronze letters reminded the thirty five year old of something similar with  _ them  _ ten years ago. He remembers every single bit of  _ them _ , from the lines  _ they  _ said to the stupid fixtation  _ he  _ had of knowing every font in existence and always blurting it out in conversations. 

Kihyun pushes the door open, it swings wide effortlessly and allows both of them to step through with ease. It automatically shuts behind them, the chatter of the outside bar disappears immediately and now it is quiet, except for the slight buzz of noise outside. The room had a minimum interior, a small bar was set up at the corner with a large television screen across from it. The room was a dark oak colour and the fire lit in the corner fills it with a soft orange glow that felt quite cosy in Yoong’s opinion.

“We can sit here. No one will use it tonight, we have no guests on the list wanting it so it’s all yours.” Kihyun motions to the array of alcohol showcased in the thick glass casing. 

Yoongi nods slowly and takes a seat in the tall bar stool, the younger boy heading into the bar and sitting down on another bar stool he had pulled over. Yoongi watches in amusement as Kihyun reaches into a big, woven basket and pulls out three chocolate bars. The younger boy rips open the red plastic of the KitKat and munches on it while looking at Yoongi expectantly. 

“Ignore me, I’m fucking starving.”

Yoongi shakes his head at the boy. It really was the life for people in college, they survived off chocolate bars and Ramen, sometimes ready made meals as they slaved over essays and projects due at a horrible due date that gave them no time to put a good amount of effort into it. It wasn’t like that back in 1989, college was so much different in his time then Kihyun’s version of it.

“As I said before, I went to Daegu’s District Republic for college in 1989 -- I was only seventeen, I was young.” Yoongi starts off, his dark gaze finds its way to looking at the white broth left at the rim of his pint glass. He can feel Kihyun’s questioning stare and quickly elaborates. “I started school early, hence why I was seventeen entering.”

“Your grades must have been amazing.” Kihyun points out through his muffled chewing. 

Yoongi bites his cheek on the inside, fingers slowly beginning to tap a familiar rhythm to the both of them. “I was a smart kid. I had a photographic memory and was a fast learner, kept my grades up throughout school due to those factors. I usually bugged off on lesson’s was used to being scolded and all that.”

“I can’t even remember what bar I was chewing just there.” Kihyun grumbles slowly, though Yoongi still manages to hear it. He suppresses a laugh and answers for him.

“A KitKat with four pieces, mint flavour and it had that stupid advertisment printed on the right corner. Anyways, off topic-”

Yoongi decides not to comment on Kihyun’s priceless facial expression as he didn’t want to embarrass the kid even more. His eyes were blown wide, two brown pits gaze at him with an entire galaxy floating through it. Awe and adoration glistened in his eyes and Yoongi welcomed the sight with warmth. It was nice to have someone look at him like a normal human being, though Yoongi knew he wouldn’t be looking at him like that once he finished his story.

“I did the normal, studied four years and became a detective at the age of twenty one. Well, not really. I spent my first six months in the Daegu Branch doing paperwork before I got my first case. They were small cases at first but they quickly turned into catching sex offenders, rapists, thieves and drug cartels. By the time I was twenty three I was the best detective they had in my branch, I had risen quickly in the ranks and had completed cold cases and ongoing ones others who were there longer than me couldn’t do.”

Kihyun feels himself getting drawn into the natural way Yoongi conversed and leans his head into his open palms. 

“Not a lot of people liked me, probably because I had easily scaled the ranks without a bother and the boss favoured me. Or maybe it was over my temper and attitude — probably was now that I think of it.” 

Yoongi lets out a bitter bark of laughter, unintentionally scaring Kihyun who jumps a little but ultimately says nothing. He hates how strong he sounded when he was twenty three, but that was far from the truth. Yoongi hates how he can remember every single bit of being a detective. Having a photographic memory was a curse at the same time a blessing. 

If Yoongi was able to, he’d erase his past and would rather live with the unknown events of his life before thirty five. Everything followed him like Karma -- he was paying for what he did and always will till he passed away and hit the dirt for good.

“I got an ongoing case when I was twenty three. This woman had been brutally murdered — I won’t go into details on how she was, and her killer was still roaming Daegu and I had to catch the sick fucker. Her seven year old daughter was the only one who saw his face so I had to take her under my wing to solve the case. She lived with me throughout the entirety of the case. Sweet girl - Yongsun was her name. She wanted to become a veterinarian, she was selfless. Unfortunately, that never happened for her,”

Yoongi whisks his half empty pint of beer around, watching as it stained the glass and fogged it up. Just like it stained his life once this case brutally ended - alcohol became the answer to Yoongi and it still was for him. Maybe it was the way the bitter liquid made him sleep for more than two hours or the fact that Yoongi didn’t hear the guilt eating thoughts consume him for a moment. Alcohol calmed the dark thoughts.

“We were walking out of the supermarket one day, it all happened too fast yet Yongsun spotted it first. I was bending down fixing her jacket when she saw the gun and didn’t hesitate to throw herself before me, sacrificing her life for  _ me _ . I remember her body fell limp in my arms, I didn’t have time to react before I was shot in the left shoulder, I blacked out to wake up to the doctors telling me it was a murder suicide. The cowardly cunt shot Yongsun, killing her and shooting me in the shoulder before killing himself. It affected me pretty bad, in two weeks I had retired and abandoned my job without a second look behind me.” 

Kihyun feels his mouth go dry with horror. He couldn’t wrap his head around living through something like that. _ He witnessed a seven year old getting murdered _ . The guilt Yoongi must be carrying is indescribable, Kihyun could barely stomach the thought of imagining an innocent seven year old sacrificing herself for someone else - it was a depressing thought that Kihyun pushed away.

Yoongi lifts his gaze up to lock eyes with him. “I spent two years wallowing in guilt, drinking myself to death in a shitty apartment. I had lost myself. Then I got a phone call on the twenty second of February, a sporadic one that fucked up my whole life.”

_ This is it _ . Yoongi was coming clean to a fucking bartender. He was ready for this, he was done being strong. If it took talking to a broke college student who served him alcohol every night then so be it. It was time the slate came clean, Yoongi was done having his cries for help ignored. He was telling his story, whether he liked it or not.

He knew  _ they’d  _ be proud of him for trying, so with that in mind, Yoongi delved into his traumatic past that he wishes would stop plaguing every corner of his mind.

✩✩✩

**5:08 AM** ― **_22ND OF FEBRUARY 1997_** ― **YOONGI’S APARTMENT : BUK-GU TOWN (DAEGU DISTRICT)**

Yoongi shot up from his bed when he heard the shrill sound of his flip phone ring out through the quiet and dark apartment. The twenty five year old began to cough and hack as the dried alcohol on his face trickled into his already dry mouth. After a few seconds of struggling Yoongi managed to find his small glass of still water and he threw it down his throat to calm the coughing. 

“Fucking whiskey.” Yoongi grunted in disdain. He knew whiskey absolutely killed him whenever he woke up but that didn’t stop the depressed man from drinking. 

It was at that moment Yoongi remembered his phone was still ringing obnoxiously loud throughout the still night. Through half lidded eyes he managed to crawl over his bed and clumsily fetch his phone, catching a glimpse of the time as he did and he almost crushed the loud plastic rectangle in his hand when he did see it.

** _5:08 AM_ **

“You’ve got be fucking kidding me.” Yoongi groaned and reluctantly answered the phone call, rather rudely but he didn’t care.

Yoongi despised getting up early, his body wasn’t able to do it anymore. He drank till the early hours of the morning and fell asleep around eight before waking up at five and the depressing cycle continued. His head was pounding and he prayed whoever had the balls to ring him had something beneficial to say or else he might consider putting a bullet through their skull. 

“What the fuck is it? It’s five in the fucking morning, what the hell do you possibly want?” Yoongi snarled into the phone. His voice was deep and groggy from lack of sleep yet anyone could hear the venom laced in each word he spat. 

“Good morning, Min Yoongi. I’m Detective Yoon, associate with the Daegu Branch and the police-“ Somehow a cheery voice answered him and left Yoongi frowning at how someone could be bright at this ungodly time. “I need you to come down to the police station right this instant. It’s highly important.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and sat up in his rickety old bed, his bare feet knocking off empty bottles of every sort of alcohol imaginable. It came crashing to the tiled floors with a clang but it didn’t bother Yoongi in the slightest. His vision was slightly hazy as he still had a copious amount of alcohol in his system that he needed to sleep off. The alcohol flared his temper along with the lack of sleep, hence why all his answers came out sarcastic and threatening.

“What? Did they find out about the DUI I got in Seoul last year and want to completely demolish me from their record system?” Yoongi bit back a snigger and continued. “Or was it the fact that I got into a bar fight three months ago?”

“Min-“

“Listen here you yanky doodle fuck, unless I’m being arrested, which clearly I’m  _ not _ , I don’t fucking associate with the police force anymore. Now have a good fucking  _ morning _ and leave me sleep for fuck sake.”

Yoongi heard Yoon’s voice over the phone talking to someone else. “ _ I knew he was hard to talk to but not this bad. What’s wrong with him? _ ” He snorted loudly and stood up, stumbling over bottles and random clothes scattered over the dirty floor. The tiles were cold and some of them were stained with alcohol that he had spilt over the last two years and were never cleaned or scrubbed. 

What was wrong with him?  _ Everything _ . Yoongi lost everything he has worked for over a massive burden of guilt he carried with weak shoulders. He was too much of a coward to face another case again after Yongsun, all he could see what her face of anguish before she died in his arms and then the bullet pierced him as well. His days were over and he turned to alcohol to cope.  _ Pathetic. _

“Listen Min, I know you don’t like us anymore or don’t want to have anything to do with this force anymore. But you are a brilliant detective, you are the best in Daegu-“

“Did no one teach you what the past tense was or are you only listening to the shit that benefits you?”

“What I’m trying to say is that we need you to do one last case. I know you’re retired and haven’t had anything to do with the agency in two years but we need you, it’s serious and very urgent.”

Yoongi stalled in his walk to the fridge to get more alcohol. He blinked rapidly at the gritty counter and repeated those words over and over again in his head like a mantra. ‘ _ We need you to do one last case’ _ . No, he couldn’t. He abandoned that two years ago when Yongsun died, he refused to open another thick folder and glance at anymore murder pictures. He  _ refused _ to. 

No matter how much his heart was screaming at him to take it, the guilt was like a slap back to reality and it forced Yoongi to stiffen up and put back his nonchalant facade. 

“No. You know what retired means, Yoon? It means you don’t do jackshit anymore. Go find someone else for this case, I can’t do it.” Yoongi answered back while yanking open his fridge door in anger. 

He heads Yoon let out a long sigh at the other end of the phone. It was obvious he was frustrated at Yoongi’s stubbornness but it was more frustrating for Yoongi to try to ignore his frantic heartbeat and willing himself to press the end button on the blue flip phone. All he needed to do was hang up and he’d go back to drinking his sorrows away and watching shit sitcom programs in an attempt to be entertained — he just needed to hang up. 

But he didn’t hang up and it left Yoon a chance to talk once more.

“This case is big, nobody has been able to figure it out. It’s an ongoing one, for the past  _ three _ years. It’s been to seven branches with over hundreds of detectives, no one can close it. People died over this case, in order to save more people we need you, Min Yoongi to come back.” Yoon pleaded over the phone in desperation. 

Yoongi stared at the alcohol bottle he had grabbed in a rush blankly. 

“Just one more case, one more case and then we won’t bother you again.”

Yoongi pondered and mulled to himself for four minutes, his soft breaths were the only thing Yoon could hear over the phone and the suspense was evident in the way Yoon gulped and cursed a few times while waiting for Yoongi’s answer. The twenty five year old let out a sigh and came up with a decision that he didn’t know would change his life and the way he thinks of the world.

“Oh for fuck sake, alright I’ll fucking do it! Give me an hour and I’ll be at the stupid station.” 

Yoongi roughly agreed while carelessly throwing the bottle back into his clustered fridge. Now he needed to find all his nice clothes that were probably buried in his closet somewhere where it hasn’t been touched in two years. 

“I’m glad to have you on board, Min.” Yoon chuckled through the phone, the relief was evident in his tone and it made Yoongi roll his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up you cheerful cunt. Don’t make me regret this shit.”

And then Yoongi hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note, the story takes place in 1997! Kihyun and Yoongi talking is in the year 2007 after it happened just incase anyone got confused. I’m so excited to get this story up and running now as now it actually starts. I hope you guys are enjoying this and I apologise for updating every few months, I’ll be more active now :))


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